


What matter to me if their star is a world?

by Samsonet



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samsonet/pseuds/Samsonet
Summary: No encores. Not songs, not moves, not Pokemon.But then what does that make her?
Relationships: Mary | Marnie & Hop (Pokemon), Mary | Marnie & Nezu | Piers, Mary | Marnie/Yuuri | Gloria
Comments: 16
Kudos: 262





	What matter to me if their star is a world?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Robert Browning's "My Star":
> 
> _What matter to me if their star is a world?_  
>  _Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it._
> 
> Yesterday I was minding my own business when Marnie grabbed me by the throat and demanded I write this.

When Marnie is five years old, her brother gives her a Pokemon.

It has to be a dark-type, but it looks so bright that the idea is hard to believe. It waddles over, sniffs her ankles, then raises its arms. Marnie knows what that means. It wants to be picked up!

“I thought havin’ a partner might help ya not be scared all the time,” her amazing big brother says.

He hands her its pokeball.

“Thank you! Thank you!”

Next, Piers asks a gym trainer to battle her. Marnie wins her very first time. She runs on the field and hugs Morpeko tight. Everyone says she’s so talented and that they’re proud of her.

(Later, she’ll realize that the older trainer let her win. But back then? She was five. She thought the world belonged to her.)

*

Marnie can’t sing. Can’t pour out her soul. Can’t even yell. Her voice is small and soft, a violin among electric guitars.

Her brother seems to realize that. He finds other ways for her to support him. Help carry the microphone, Marnie. Raise your arms like this to get the audience hyped up. Stand there and look cute, Marnie, people love that.

She jumps to obey the first time, because her brother hates repeating himself.

_No encores. Not songs, not moves, not Pokémon._

But when the show is over and they go home, when it’s just him and her in their messy cold apartment, he’ll keep singing the same lullaby until she falls asleep.

*

The trouble with Morpeko is this: it never stays in one mood for long.

It goes from cheerful to angry in the blink of an eye, and it continues to catch her off guard. Every time a trainer yells or Piers’ Pokémon surprise her or there’s another sudden blackout — every time that a younger Marnie would have cried — well, now Morpeko needs her. There’s no time for crying now.

She feeds him berries and hugs him close to her chest. He’s her best friend. (Her only friend.)

It takes a while for her to understand her partner well enough to cope with his moods. She likes to think it made them closer.

*

Piers wants her to take over the gym.

That’s the plan. That’s always been the plan, ever since the day Spikemuth’s last leader croaked and Piers somewhat-accidentally ended up with the gym. He’s been holding on to it, taking care of all the trainers and whatnot, but it’s not his dream.

(It’s not hers, either, but someone has to do it.)

She’s growing like a dandelion, poking her head through a crack in the concrete. She should consider herself lucky to be under the care of someone who thinks she’s worth nurturing.

(She still can’t sing.)

None of it matters.

One day, she’ll grow tall and strong. One day, she’ll master dark-types. One day, she’ll stand on Piers’ stage, wearing his uniform and battling with his style, and all the yells will sound the same.

*

One day, when she and Piers are setting up the stage, Marnie’s world changes forever.

Her brother says, in a casual voice, “I’m thinking of endorsing you for the gym challenge.”

She nods, stuffs some paper under a wobbly leg on the drum set, and then has a double-take.

The gym challenge. A way to get out of this town. A chance to make a name for herself, to be someone other than Piers’ dear little sister. The possibility of battling the champion. The possibility of _beating_ the champion.

She’d never really thought of it before.

It surprises her, how suddenly she wants it.

She meets her brother’s eyes. No amount of makeup disguises the exhaustion, but he puts the effort into smiling for her.

She gives a small smile in return. “So I’d be representin’ you, huh?”

“You don’t have ta worry about representin’ me. You’re my champion no matter what.” It’s corny, but no one is around to hear. “But you’d be representing Spikemuth, Marn. I know it’s not an easy task. Do you feel up to it?”

She looks to Morpeko. Her partner gives a cheeky grin.

“Yeah. We c’n do it.”

*

Of course, her brother doesn’t let her go alone.

“I’m gonna be sendin’ some people with ya, okay? They’re there to protect ya.”

His gym trainers, dressed in the most paper-thin disguises, follow her out of Spikemuth and onto Route 9.

“What are ya doin’, dressed like that?” she asks.

Joshua answers: “We’re Team Yell! We’re gonna support you through the whole challenge!”

The other trainers give yelps and _woohoo_ s. “Go Marnie! That’s our Marnie! Yay Marnie!!”

It’s so easy to be talked over and shouted down.

She’s not getting rid of them as long as she stands here, though, so Marnie keeps walking and pretends they aren’t there.

She makes it to Motostoke safe and sound, and that’s what counts, right?

*

Leon’s girl is quiet, even by Marnie’s standards. She looks at everything with wide eyes, like she’s overjoyed and overwhelmed. She’s brown eyes and brown hair and brown skin, plain posture and plain clothes. Either she hasn’t figured out her aesthetic yet, or her aesthetic is to be so normal that one might overlook her.

She’s got a lovely smile, though.

Marnie decides she likes her.

“You’re lookin’ a bit gobsmacked by all this,” she says.

The girl nods, grinning sheepishly.

“You must be from some small country town, is that it? I’m quite the same myself.”

The girl stands awkwardly, like she’s not used to conversation. Then she kneels down and makes faces at Morpeko. For his part, Morpeko seems to love it. Fair enough. Don’t trainers usually connect through their Pokemon? Maybe that’s what this girl is trying to do.

Leon’s brother rushes up. “Gloria, come on! Sorry, everyone, we gotta go!”

He grabs the girl by the hand, and in the blink of an eye, they’re gone.

Marnie will learn later, from magazine profiles and TV interviews, that Gloria is the childhood friend of Leon’s little brother. The pair of them are like peas in a pod, apparently. In the interviews, Hop is always the one talking. He speaks like he’s never heard of an indoor voice. Gloria is almost silent beside him, nodding along, only saying a few words when specifically prompted.

Marnie understands. When everyone around is so loud, sometimes it’s an advantage to be quiet.

She hopes they’ll get the chance to speak properly.

*

At the hotel, Gloria has just battled a group of Team Yell grunts. Inwardly, Marnie groans. Like it or not, Team Yell is _her_ fandom, which means she has some responsibility for what they do.

Does Piers know how much of a pain his trainers will be if they keep acting like this?

_They're there to protect you._

Her brother hates repeating himself.

She tells Team Yell to just go home. Piers can send them out again later if he wants.

She turns to the other kids, explains what Team Yell is doing. “Sorry if they caused you any trouble.”

She expects them to look at her with scorn. Look at this girl, with a thick accent and dirty clothes. Look at how she thinks she’s so special, with a team of hooligans following her around.

But then Leon’s little brother speaks.

“So you’re a gym challenger, too?” Hop folds his arms behind his head. He’s got a cute toothy grin; he’s obviously used to being happy. “Team Yell, was it? Pretty impressive that you already have a set of fans to call your own!”

He really doesn’t know.

But Marnie smiles all the same.

*

She’s in a boutique in Motostoke when she sees Hop again.

“Watch out! I’m coming through!”

He pushes blithely past anyone in his way. Of course, no one gives him any trouble. He’s the champion’s little brother. He can do whatever he likes.

It seems that what he wants to do is look at the same rack of snapbacks Marnie is.

He picks up a League Sponsored Normal Type Hat (™). “Hey, Marnie, how does this look on me?”

He says it like they’re not basically strangers.

He says it like he’s entitled to her thoughts.

(Being Leon’s little brother must come with a lot of perks, huh.

But that’s a mean thing to think.)

She decides to humor him. “It looks fine.”

“Aw, come on! Look at me!”

She does.

She’s struck with the strangest sense of deja vu, but in a moment she understands why.

Hop has his brother’s face. Hop has his brother’s smile. Hop has his brother’s eyes.

People say that Marnie and Piers look alike, but a good portion of that is because they’re both punk. Put them in prep clothes, and the resemblance grows less distinct.

(Piers’ eyes always look so tired. If Marnie takes over the gym, will her eyes start to look like that, too?

No encores.

She’s probably a remix.)

“Are you figuring out what you want your image to be?” she asks.

“Mm. Yeah, I guess? You gotta give the audience a way to find you outta all the other challengers.”

Marnie hums. “You’ve already got a good template if ya play up how much ya look like Leon.”

Immediately, she knows that was the wrong thing to say. Hop drops the hat as if burned, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

Marnie looks at the hat that she’d been considering, a League Sponsored Dark Type (™).

“Y’know, though,” she says, kneeling down to pick a more generic newsie cap, “ _my_ big brother is always talkin’ about not doin’ encores. It’s good ta always have somethin’ new, right?”

She hands him the cap. It’s blue, a shade off from the jacket Hop is wearing. He fits his hair under it, then tilts his head to give her a better view.

“It looks good on you,” she says.

He grins, then reaches down and pulls out a bright pink cap. He places it on her head, but her pigtails get in the way, and they both scramble to catch it before it hits the floor.

Hop starts laughing first, because that’s the kind of person he is, and soon Marnie is giggling too.

In this moment, she and Hop don’t represent anyone.

In this moment, they’re simply two kids in a new place, trying out different styles and having fun.

They buy the newsie hats. They buy matching jackets and shirts and trousers, too, because they have money now and no older brothers to stop them.

Hop gives her a cheerful goodbye and promises to meet her in the next town.

Marnie heads into the dressing room. She wants to examine the new clothes.

The inside of the cap and the lining of the jacket’s sleeves are both some silky fabric. The blouse is wooloo wool, soft as Morpeko’s fur. She runs her hands over it, enjoying the sensation, then puts the outfit on and snaps a selfie.

She looks like a princess. Not the ones like Cinderella, who came from poverty and ascended with the help of fairy godmothers. No, Marnie looks like one of the princesses who was _born_ a princess. She looks like she’s used to elegance and influence.

It’s a nice daydream.

She puts on her usual outfit back on, then packs up the new clothes and mails them home at the next postbox.

It’s too late to be changing her style now.

*

“You’re Piers’ sister, right?” Milo asks, moving a hay bundle like he doesn’t realize how much of a flex it is. “I was listening to his stuff the other day. He’s really good.”

“He is.” Marnie holds up a pokeball. “But I’m here to battle you.”

The next TV spot describes her as _stoic_ and _emotionless_. They say she’s serious, goal-focused. She doesn’t know how to feel about it.

*

It turns out Gloria likes normal-types. Beside her Scorbunny, she’s got a Wooloo and an Eevee. Plain girl, plain clothes, plain Pokemon.

But however plain Gloria is, her smile is genuine. It’s the kind of expression that connects with an audience.

Later that night, Marnie examines herself in her Rotom-phone’s camera. Her natural smile is so small that it’s not much different from her usual flat expression.

She puts on finger on either side of her lips and physically pulls them up.

It’s better, but still not enough.

*

She meets Bede on the outskirts of Stow-on-Side.

He’s got a Copperajah by his side. It’s not the kind of Pokémon she would expect him to have, but if the league was supposed to be about growing as a person…

He almost barrels over her. Lucky for Marnie, she’s got Team Yell behind her. They keep her from falling, and one of them grabs Bede by the back of his coat.

“Get your hands _off_ of me,” Bede growls.

“You gotta apologize to Marnie first!”

“Why would I _waste my time —_ ”

(Why doesn’t the Copperajah do anything? Does it not care what happens to its trainer?)

Marnie’s eyes meet Bede’s.

“Well?” he asks, his lip curled into a sneer. “I know you, Challenger Nine-six-zero. You’re the little sister of Spikemuth’s gym leader, right? Your city wants you to become champion so you can bring some glory back. But you’ll never make it to Wyndon.”

“How dare you say that to our Ma—”

Bede’s sneer gets bigger. “You depend too much on your brother’s screaming gang. He’s not going to be able to baby you forever. Can you even speak for yourself? I don’t think you can.”

It’s so easy to be talked over and shouted down.

She turns to her fans. “Let him go.”

“Let him —?”

In the moment of surprise, Bede wrenches himself from the grunt’s hold. He hops back, arms up, hands loosely curled into fists.

“I don’ know what yer problem is,” Marnie says, as loudly as she can, “but it’s not my trouble to deal with! I don’ wanna hear another word from you! Get!”

Bede huffs.

Then he and Copperajah continue on their path.

When they’re out of eyesight, Marnie turns to her fans.

Something must be wrong with her expression, because the grunts look scared.

“Marnie…?”

“Tell Piers that I don’ need ‘im ta baby me anymore!”

She turns on her heel and stomps on, alone.

*

When Marnie sets up camp for the night, she thinks about her rivals.

At the opening ceremony, there had been — what, twenty?

Right now, she can only remember three.

Whatever Bede is getting up to, it can’t be good. (She hopes his Copperajah eats him.)

Hop has been nowhere in sight. It’s unusual and worrying. She hopes the pressure isn’t getting to him.

And Gloria...

Gloria is lucky. Her town is already prospering, because it has already produced a champion. 

She has no older siblings to overshadow her; she has never had to feel empty when they’re distant, or smothered when they make their presence known.

Gloria doesn’t even have to worry about representing her sponsor. Everyone’s expectations of Leon are placed squarely on _Hop’s_ shoulders.

Gloria has the privilege of fighting for herself.

Marnie envies her.

She curls up in her sleeping bag and thinks, _who am I really fighting for?_

*

She fights for Spikemuth.

Her city has fallen into hard times, and it feels like everyone back home is expecting her to bring new life back to it.

(Dirty accent, dirty clothes.)

She fights for Piers.

Her brother wants her to take over the gym. Her brother gave her her first Pokémon and everything he’s done since has always come back to the damn gym.

(“I want to focus on my music.”

Marnie still can’t sing.)

She fights for _herself_.

...and she fights for Morpeko.

Morpeko needs her. She has caught other Pokémon, yes, and they all depend on each other, but Morpeko is her partner. She understands him the most. She understands his moods, his wants, his thoughts and feelings.

She knows what it’s like to hunger. She’s faced the pain of an empty belly and the anguish of an unrealized goal, and she finds them equal.

Morpeko is a right little brute when he’s hangry, though.

*

Of course, Team Yell is causing trouble. Did Piers tell them to close the gate? It would be consistent.

She shows Gloria the way into Spikemuth. Maybe another challenger would let her competitor struggle (and Marnie does, indeed, let the others struggle), but Gloria is her _rival_. Rivals help each other, right?

Gloria, of course, passes through the gym without any trouble at all. She powers past all the obstructions, never showing the slightest hint of frustration.

And then she comes to Piers.

Marnie is watching from the sidelines. She studies Gloria’s face, looking for any indication of what she’s thinking.

For some reason, Marnie really wants her brother to make a good impression on Gloria. To represent what’s good about Spikemuth, to make it so _Marnie_ looks good as a result.

(Dirty accent. Dirty city. Dirty, tired man at the center of it all.)

Piers goes all out, giving his best performance.

Gloria hops in joy when she wins.

*

After Gloria leaves, Piers looks to Marnie and asks, “Are ya okay? The trainers told me you’ve been actin’ differently lately.”

“It’s nuthin’. Just getting a bit tired.”

“Do you wanna rest here tonight? You don’t have to continue —”

“No!”

She says it a bit louder than intended. Piers looks at her in surprise.

Marnie clears her throat and tries again: “I need to keep up wi’ my rivals. One of us is goin’ ta be facing Leon. I want it to be me.”

Her brother looks at her with those tired eyes.

(Is she a bad sister, looking for a way to escape his burdens?)

“Well. Kick Leon’s arse for me, ya hear?” Piers kicks up his microphone and tucks it under his arm. “And when you get bored a’ bein’ champion, Spikemuth Stadium will be waiting for ya.”

 _I don’t want to be your encore,_ she thinks, but keeps quiet.

She tugs on the pendant connected to her collar. Beside her, Piers does the same.

*

Hammerlocke Stadium is cold.

Gloria had her match here two days ago, Hop the day after that. Bede would probably have gotten here before either of them, but —

Somewhere along the line, Bede got disqualified.

She wonders if the same thing could have happened to her. If the Chairman or the Champion decided that her fans were being too disruptive, could they have her sent away, too?

Her brother is strong, but his power has limits.

“Hey, kid!” Raihan says. His grin is full of sharp teeth. “You ready to battle me?”

She nods.

*

“You’re not like your brother,” Hop says.

They’re in the Wyndon Stadium locker room, waiting for the semifinals to start. Hop and Gloria had walked in together but quickly split apart, going to opposite sides of the room.

Hop decided to sit next to Marnie. She’ll take it as a compliment.

“I mean, your brother’s cool and all!” Hop continues, “But I’ve been watching your battles. Your battle style is totally different from his!”

It is. Piers can’t keep his cool, can’t stop shouting out his strategy in the middle of a match.

And Marnie…

Marnie stays quiet. That’s her advantage.

“Thank you. For what it’s worth… yer style is pretty distinct from Leon’s, too.”

He smiles and leans back. “Thanks.”

The minutes tick by. The anticipation is almost unbearable.

Hop says, “I’ve been thinking… after the cup, what do you think you’re going to do? If you don’t become champion, I mean.”

If you don’t become champion. A nice way of saying _if we battle, I’m going to win._

Marnie herself has no intention of losing, but… well, everything’s a possibility.

“Piers wants me ta take over the gym. He wants ta follow his own dreams.”

“Do you _want_ to take over the gym?”

Do you want to be your big brother’s encore?

Marnie thinks about the Spikemuth Stadium. Neon lights. Punk trainers. Dandelions growing through cracks in the concrete.

Despite everything, it’s her home.

If she can’t take Leon’s throne… she wouldn’t mind sharing Piers’ stage.

His songs. Her battles.

 _I’m not an encore,_ Marnie decides. _Not a replay. Not a remix._

_I’m a brand new song._

She says in answer, “I think I’d be happy there.”

*

When it comes time for her semifinal match, Marnie walks out on the pitch to the sound of roaring applause.

Gloria is waiting, plain as always, but she’s smiling that lovely smile.

(Oh, how Marnie wants that smile.)

The commentator announces them, putting them in boxes one last time. There’s Gloria, the trainer endorsed by the champion. There’s Marnie, endorsed by Spikemuth’s gym leader.

Marnie thinks of Piers: his prideful self-loathing, his harsh stage voice, his team of hooligans he’s sent to cheer for her.

She thinks of Spikemuth, the dark dirty town that has pinned all its hopes on her.

She thinks of her rival, standing before her.

She’s come too far to lose here.


End file.
